"He's still a precious little pumpkin, you know," said Grandpa Paul, getting teary.
I know exactly what he means, and I'm quite familiar with that persistent wet feeling on my face. There's been a lot of crying this first month of Walter Paul's life--happy crying, overwhelmed crying, crying at any love song with the word "baby" in it. The adults in Walt's life are kind of a weepy bunch. We're a little tired, you know. And we are in love.
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| The rarely-seen napping Walter, age 1 month |
Crying is also something Walt himself has been doing a lot of ... and by crying I mean screaming ... and by screaming I mean SCREAMING. I hate to say it but it must be said: colic. Like mother, like son. Although, from my mom's stories, I think Walter is managing to be more charming than I was during my colicky times. As Grandpa noted, he's still a pretty precious little pumpkin. He's just also an angry little pumpkin who doesn't want to sleep. (To make me a liar, Walter seems to be sleeping in his bed like a sweet baby right at this very moment. Make me a liar, Walt. Go for it!)
Even with the colic to consider, chief among the family criers is me, the Mommy. I'm a little frustrated with my body and it's issues. Namely, blood that's not supposed to be there in that color and amount and yet is there, and keeps being there day after day. Doctor M's orders: push fluids, get lots of rest, feet up, no lifting anything. These orders are familiar from my bedrest during the pregnancy, but now they're a little more difficult to follow. Not because I can't follow them ... once again, my family has come through and I don't have to lift a thing this week. It's difficult because I desperately want to lift that baby. I want to comfort him when he's screaming, I want to be able to offer him love and attention beyond feeding him, which is all I'm really good for right now. But I'm very grateful that I can feed him, and I'm grateful for my mom and dad and Sean, with their sore arms and their stiff backs and their seemingly endless love and patience for both me and Walt.
I wish this was a more upbeat update--if it had been written last week, it surely would have been a different story. But that seems to be how it goes ... good days and bad days. If we waited for it to be only good days, for that neat ending where we have it all figured out, we'd never write again. And I do want to keep writing and recording the good, the bad, and the weepy.
Some of my favorite things about Walt these days:
**The way he looks after he's been nursing. He makes funny little old man faces and does big stretches with his arms. I put him up on my shoulder to burp him and he holds on like he's giving me a hug.
**Awake and alert times when he's just happy to look around at the world, giving big charming smiles to me or whoever is with him, or even more often to the ceiling, which is fascinating.
**How persistent he is at trying to do things beyond what his body is really supposed to be able to do at this point ... lift his head, move around independently, use his hands. Walter is strong and wants to move and groove with the rest of us.
**The way he smiles and sometimes even laughs in his sleep.
**The impact he has on the people who love him ... the way he's made me a mommy, and Sean a daddy, and grandparents of my parents, and a tireless protector out of Hank the dog. Oh, Hank. The way he barks at everything that passes our door is maybe a little much, but the way he checks in on the baby and gives him kisses on his head and feet is pretty wonderful.
This naptime of Walt's is really sticking, so I'd better go join him. Sleep when the baby sleeps!
Happy one month birthday, Scooter. We love you more than even our tears can tell.
